


Ephemera

by Larathia



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: F/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-14
Updated: 2012-11-14
Packaged: 2017-11-18 16:34:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/563112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larathia/pseuds/Larathia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kira misses Odo and doesn't have a handle on this 'vacation' idea. A vedek finds a solution for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ephemera

Nerys would be the first to admit; she _sucked_ at meditation.

It wasn't a lack of faith - far from it. Her faith in the Prophets was if anything the most consistent, rock-solid aspect of her life. Her faith in the Prophets and in their path was firm when she doubted everything else, including herself and her ability to walk that path.

But she really couldn't get the hang of navel cotemplation. A stream could be beautiful without her having to spend all afternoon appreciating it; a tree in bloom could be beautiful without her spending days watching the wind blow the petals around. When she prayed it was not an emptying of herself, but rather a shift in her focus; turning some prophecy or commentary around in her mind. In fairness, it was probably closer to some mental version of sparring than anything actually _peaceful_. If you could consider a written passage as something to be pummeled into transparency and clarity, she beat the daylights out of ancient texts on a daily basis.

She tried anyway, now and then. She'd just grown more accustomed, over the years, to the fact that no, really, she sucked at meditation and it wasn't likely to get better. Monasteries had strict rules laid down now about the tasks she would be set; she wasn't to do any weeding since the Garden Uprooting incident five years ago, no path making since the Fiasco with the River Stones two years ago, and on the whole it was better to hand her a broom and a room that was already swept by someone who had the hang of housekeeping.

She wasn't very good at this 'vacation' thing either, really. Sometimes she thought the monasteries held a lottery for which one would host her visit when DS9 Firmly Invited her to use her vacation days already.

It wasn't as if she had anywhere better to go. Risa was almost as fake as a holosuite program. Most of her friends were dead or had the kind of jobs that tied to a growing year. And all the other people she knew were either in government or Starfleet and most of _those_ people had no more idea what to do with a vacation than she did.

Besides. Left alone too long without something _useful_ to do - and the jury was still out on whether 'sweeping the floor' really counted as useful - she found herself brooding.

Over Odo.

Which was _stupid_.

"I believe the floor is losing the battle with your broom," said Vedek Nane, interrupting her thoughts.

"Oh," said Nerys, with an embarrassed smile. "I'm sorry. I'm - I don't think I'm cut out for this."

"And yet, you keep trying," said the vedek, taking a seat on a bench. "Is it important, do you think, to master floor-sweeping?"

Of course, another problem with vacationing in monasteries was never being entirely sure if silly questions were meant to have silly answers, or if you were supposed to meditate on them to find their Deeper Meaning. "It's better than a dusty floor," she ventured.

"I suppose it is," said vedek Nane with a gentle smile. "Now tell me what the dust has done to offend you so."

"Nothing, of course," said Nerys, and put the broom down before the discussion of assault with a deadly broom could go any further. "I'm just preoccupied."

The vedek nodded, unsurprised. "You seem to think you will find peace here, from whatever haunts you."

"Other people seem to manage it," Nerys agreed. "I thought I might too, if I kept at it."

"It isn't a marathon," said Nane gently. "What's troubling you?"

Nerys shrugged. She honestly didn't like _talking_ about her problems. It sounded like whining to her ears. That was part of what made the Prophets such a relief; they didn't judge, and only spoke if there was something useful to say. "I lost someone recently. A very...dear friend." 

"And you have performed the death chant, lit the _duranja_ , and still feel no better?" asked Nane.

"Uh, no," said Nerys, a bit awkwardly. "I said I lost him. I didn't say he died."

The vedek blinked. "But he is not coming back, this friend of yours?"

"Er. Maybe?" Nerys hazarded. "That's the thing though. It could be years, or decades, or never, or tomorrow. I don't know."

"Very communicative, this friend of yours," said Nane wryly. "And so you have lost your friend, but do not feel you can grieve because he may yet return? Do I understand you now?"

"Yes," said Nerys, relieved. The questions might stop now.

Instead, vedek Nane got to his feet, gesturing to Nerys to follow. She did so, wondering what was on the man's mind. He led her along the walkways to an outdoor garden, recently hoed, and to a gardener's table on which sat several seedlings in little pots. He lifted one up and showed it to her. "Do you know what this is?" he asked.

Nerys sniffed at the leaves. "It's a makara herb, isn't it?" she asked.

Nane nodded. "A remarkable plant, the makara, every physician's friend. What can you tell me about it?"

"Not much," Nerys admitted. "I think I killed a lot of them when I came here last year. I got a bit carried away with the weeding."

Nane smiled. "You did, yes. Then I will tell you this. The makara is quite resilient, though it does not look it. When winter comes, it harbors its strength in its roots, to return year after year." He held it out. "I think this is what you need."

"To harbor strength in my roots?" asked Nerys blankly.

"Adversity strikes at us all," said the vedek. "And if we are wise we withdraw, pull into ourselves, so that we survive - just as the plant lets stem and leaf wither so that the roots may live. Some of us forget that when the sun returns we may branch out into the light again, because we fear the frost that must come after, but everything is a cycle. For now, your friendship with this person is in winter. Take this with you, to remember that spring will come again. Let watering it take the place of chants and lamps, so you may move forward."

Nerys took the plant warily, wondering if this was some polite ploy to get her to get the hell out from underfoot already. But it seemed like sound advice, too, if she was willing to let it be. She hadn't felt right about setting up a _duranja_ lamp for Odo, because he _wasn't_ dead, but at the same time she did miss him.

And she damn sure didn't have the time to spare for a cat.

"Um. Thank you," she said, managing a smile, and took the plant while feeling a bit silly. _Here, take this sacred-ish medicinal not-weed_...well, she'd get used to it. "I'll...find a nice pot for it?"

Vedek Nane smiled at her, an amused smile that said he knew quite well how silly it looked, and that he also knew it would work anyway. "That would be a good idea. At the very least, if we see you here next year, you won't be uprooting the herbs with the weeds. But I think it will help."

She spent the rest of her vacation walking around the capital - finding the right pot, reading about the plant, its uses, how often one had to water it. Probably a lot more work than was really required to take care of a seedling, but she had nothing better to do and it _was_ a decent distraction, which she needed. She found, to her surprise, that the makara could - when grown indoors - grow to a fragrant three feet in height.

Just the right size for a plant to take root in Odo's old bucket.

Vedek Nane had had a point.


End file.
